


Fright

by tastewithouttalent



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Accidents, Established Relationship, Experimentation, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-17
Updated: 2014-01-17
Packaged: 2018-01-09 01:48:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1140004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tastewithouttalent/pseuds/tastewithouttalent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Stein wakes up shaking." Spriit worries about Stein when the meister doesn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fright

Stein wakes up shaking. His whole body is trembling without his permission, without his decision, and even when he tries to control it there is no change in the motion. His eyes won’t focus, the world is spinning and lurching dizzily, and what he can make out of the surroundings are unfamiliar and askew. But there is a hand against his hair, trailing sensation over his scalp, and he recognizes the touch more than anything else.

“Spirit.” Even his own voice is outside the context of his memories. It’s only the hum of vibration in his throat that tells him it’s himself talking at all.

The hand in his hair goes still for a moment before returning to its motion, nearly the same as before but stretched slightly tighter over nerves. “Stein. You’re awake.”

“I might be.” Stein blinks and the world lurches dizzily. He doesn’t try to sit up. “I can’t see straight.”

“No, I don’t think you would be able to.” Spirit sounds odd. His voice is high and strained and Stein’s not quite sure why. “We weren’t really expecting you to wake up.” There’s the sound of an inhale, louder than it should be and quavering audibly. Ah. Tears. Spirit is crying.

“What happened?”

Spirit takes a breath, and when he speaks his voice has some resonance of a Death Weapon, like he’s clinging to professionalism to control his voice. “We -- aren’t sure, exactly. But you were on the floor of the lab, it -- it looked like you had collapsed? We -- I -- I couldn’t wake you up, and I didn’t want to move you. So Naigus and Sid came out and I don’t know what exactly they did, but they uh...said if you survived the night you’d be okay.” Spirit takes another breath, this one shuddering with relief, and the fingers against Stein’s hair come down to trace the lines of the meister’s face. “So don’t die on me now.”

Stein tries to laugh, but it sounds like a choke and turns into a cough before he can control it. The world jerks and spins and Spirit’s touch goes anxious to hold him steady. It doesn’t help the movement, but Stein shuts his eyes and that does help, the contact offering a frame of reference to replace his gravity.

“I won’t die,” he says after his throat has steadied. “I’ve done worse that I survived.” He takes a careful breath, lets it out. “Sorry. It was a treatment I was testing; didn’t think it would be so detrimental.”

“You should be,” Spirit says, but the harshness in his tone is undermined by the panicked affection in his touch, and Stein smiles behind the darkness of his shut eyes.

“I am sorry. Senpai.” He lets his awareness narrow, cutting out the whirl of reality until there’s just the warmth of Spirit’s lap and the brush of fingers against his scalp and hair and cheek. “It won’t happen again.”


End file.
